


All these people

by belmanoir



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Consensual Violence, Established Relationship, Kevin/Rami, Kevin/Sami, M/M, Not Kayfabe Compliant, RPF, Roleplay, in-character sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7695379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belmanoir/pseuds/belmanoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin and Rami roleplay sex in the ring.</p><p>
  <em>There’s a long moment of silence. Rami assumes they’re both letting the idea of bossy sex in the ring sort of flower in their minds. “So like, what, is it a BJ match?” Kevin says. “The loser has to go down on the winner?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rami wrinkles his nose. “I was imagining more like, I had you in the Koji Clutch and I lost all self-control.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kevin considers. “I think I like my idea better. Because then everyone knows it’s coming.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, but that would never happen. NXT is PG.”</em>
</p><p>Set shortly after Kevin's NXT debut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All these people

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anaplian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaplian/gifts).



“I love the way you keep saying ‘and all these people’ in that prissy tone of voice,” Kevin says. “‘Tell me and all these people why you did it.’ You’re a like a hot kindergarten teacher. ‘Do you have something you want to share with the class, Kevin?’”

Rami makes a face. “Kindergarten teacher? That is so inappropriate.” They’re in Kevin’s garage, cross-legged on a mat and hunched over Kevin’s laptop, watching back their in-ring promo leading up to their first singles match. Their first singles match in the WWE! Rami pinches himself surreptitiously.

“Wait, were you not into your kindergarten teacher? I totally was.”

“ _No._ I was in kindergarten!” Since Kevin is one of the few people actually willing to take a conversational topic all the way to its logical conclusion, Rami takes the opportunity to arch his back and stretch his shoulders, ready for a long discussion about the exact timing of their respective sexual awakenings, proto-crushes, and kinky stuff Kevin still vividly remembers from He-Man cartoons.

But Kevin goes back to his earlier point instead. “You’re such an exhibitionist. It’s amazing you’ve never tried to talk me into public sex. ‘Now Kevin, I need you to tell me and all these people how it feels when I do _this_.’” 

Rami is very into public sex in theory. Very _not_ into it in reality. “Like, in the ring?” he says casually, because he loves talking about sex as matter-of-factly as calling a match. But his nipples tighten as the words leave his mouth.

Kevin blinks. “I think I was imagining, like, a sex party.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Rami assumes they’re both letting the idea of bossy sex in the ring sort of flower in their minds.

“So like, what, is it a BJ match?” Kevin says. “The loser has to go down on the winner?”

Rami wrinkles his nose. “I was imagining more like, I had you in the Koji Clutch and I lost all self-control.”

Kevin considers. “I think I like my idea better. Because then everyone knows it’s coming.”

“Yeah, but that would never happen. NXT is PG.”

Kevin grins. “Sorry I didn’t properly consider verisimilitude in our otherwise highly plausible in-ring sex fantasy. Anyway, I totally think Hunter would make that match if it was...best for business.”

“Would that even be legal in Florida?” Rami wonders, but he’s mostly thinking about how good for business that match would be. He and Kevin could blow the roof off, pun 100% intended.

“Wouldn’t it be kind of great?” Kevin bounces a little on the mat. “Because we’d both want to win, but...we’d both kind of want to lose, too.”

Sami Zayn always kind of wants to lose. Rami doesn’t actually know why, just that he can feel it in his body when he wrestles, Sami holding himself back. Is it because he’s been afraid of outshining Kevin Owens for so long? Does he think the crowd might turn on him if he stops being an underdog? Or does he just love the feeling of being pinned as much as Rami does? Well, that last bit’s definitely true. Rami would bet good money Sami’s jerked off to memories of other guys’ finishers before. 

In _this_ match? To get his mouth on Kevin Owens and make everyone see how Kevin really feels about him? See how badly Kevin wants him? Suddenly Rami’s suspension of disbelief gets a lot more willing. “Get me in a submission hold.” He can hear how taut his voice is. “I’ll tap out.”

Kevin’s eyebrows shoot up. “I thought Sami didn’t tap out anymore.”

“Obviously he will again eventually, or there’s no point to the story. But if you’d rather powerbomb me, that’s totally cool.”

“No, hey. Tapping out works for me,” Kevin says fervently. He pulls Rami in for a quick kiss on the forehead, shuts his laptop, and sets it on a shelf out of the way.

“Wait, do you want to give me some direction? Like, this is your fantasy. What are you looking for? Like, do you want me to actually force some truth out of you, or just try really desperately, or...?”

Kevin shrugs. “Let’s see where it takes us.”

Rami takes a deep breath. While he has no problem with improvising, he likes having somewhere to aim. Still, he’s trying to be more open to other people’s ideas. This is Kevin’s fantasy, and Kevin is the only audience. It doesn’t have to be perfect. He takes another deep breath.

The garage isn’t cold, exactly—there’s a space heater—but it’s not a sauna either. They leave their clothes on. It occurs to Rami that this would be almost impossible to do in Kevin’s actual gear. Sami would have to, like, call for scissors to get the bottom part off his singlet.

They mat-wrestle for a couple minutes to get in the mood, get in character, get the blood pumping. Sami lands on his back and Kevin climbs on top of him, face empty of anything but anger. “Isn’t that nice?” he says with heavy sarcasm. “They’re chanting for you. They know this is the only chance to get laid you’ve had all year.”

Sami’s head snaps back with every swing Kevin takes. He can hear the swell of olés, and knowing they’re rooting to watch Kevin suck him off is perverse and disgusting. Sami Zayn’s bond with the crowd is the one pure thing in his life and now it’s tainted. 

“No it isn’t,” Sami shoots back, not loud enough for anyone to hear. It would sound petty and defensive to a stranger but Kevin knows it’s a reproach, knows he and Sami were sleeping together right up until the moment Kevin slammed him into that steel ramp.

Kevin grabs Sami’s crotch, not gently, laughing softly when he feels that Sami is half-hard. A chorus of boos...the ref expostulates...Sami throws him off, leaping to his feet with an indignant roar. He seizes Kevin’s hand in his, ready to chop him and go for a tornado DDT off the top rope—but he hesitates, distracted by the feel of Kevin’s palm against his own. He doesn’t know how he’s going to separate these things, now that he has to: touch Kevin in the ring and nowhere else.

Kevin spins him around by his arm into a headlock, dropping them both to their knees. He can’t get his hand free, so he crushes Sami’s fingers instead. 

Sami’s head aches. He sees stars, his fingers are in agony, and Kevin rubs his chin into Sami’s temple. The scratch of Kevin’s beard is painfully familiar, his erection presses against Sami's back, and why the hell is Sami fighting so hard for something he doesn’t even want? Fuck Kevin anyway. 

Sami holds up his free hand, palm towards Kevin’s arm. He can hear the inrush of breath in the crowd, the shock, the certainty that he won’t and the fear that he will. He can feel Kevin’s gasp everywhere they’re pressed together. 

He taps out. A disbelieving roar, and then a rising tide of boos more in sorrow than in anger.

Kevin doesn’t let go. Doesn’t believe it either, maybe. For long seconds, Sami keeps tapping, slow and deliberate, hard enough to hurt. At last Kevin drops him. Cold air rushes in against Sami’s back as he falls forward, almost smacking his face on the mat. For a moment he stays on his stomach, dazed, trying to shake the cobwebs from his head. 

He rolls to look up at Kevin.

Kevin is on his feet, staring down at him as if he’s seen a ghost. Sami smiles. “You won.”

Kevin blinks, trying to shape his face into an expression of triumph. After a few seconds he manages it, throwing his arms up. More boos, angrier ones. Something inside Sami curdles guiltily at that. He’s been here for a year and a half winning these people over. They barely know Kevin. If they did...

But it’s been like this everywhere. He knows in his heart it’s why Kevin hates him. Because people love to watch Kevin work, even if they don’t always like his attitude. He can get cheers for beating the crap out of almost anyone—except Sami. Never Sami.

“You know, why don’t we let this one go?” Kevin turns away. “Go ice your little wounds and we’ll call it good. I can be gracious in victory.”

Kevin can’t, actually. Sami wonders if he even knows that. He rolls up onto his knees, throwing an arm out at the crowd. “I’m pretty sure these people came here to see a show,” he says, loud enough to be heard on camera. “So let’s give them one, huh Kev?”

Kevin shakes his head, taking another step.

“What are you afraid of?” He gives Kevin’s back another angry smile. “I promise not to use teeth.”

If this were real, Kevin would probably duck out of the ring and have to be dragged back in by William Regal. Rami feels guiltily unprofessional for how hot he finds _that_ idea. He’s pretty sure Kevin’s thinking the same thing, because there’s a long pause before Kevin turns around, stepping forward with a resigned roll of his shoulders. “I’m gonna make you choke on it,” he says flatly.

A bolt of sheer lust flashes through Rami. 

An anticipatory hush fills the room all the way to the rafters as Sami reaches out. He yanks down Kevin’s shorts and briefs in one jerk, and there it is. Kevin’s erection, dangling there for everyone to see. A ripple of— _something_ in the crowd, and then they roar like they do when they smell blood. Kevin flinches.

Sami doesn’t look at them. He takes Kevin in his hand, like he’s done a million times—can they tell he’s done it a million times? Sami hopes so. “This is just business,” he says cruelly, and swirls his tongue around the head.

Kevin’s hips buck. Sami jacks him slowly. “Come on, Kev, you won. It feels good to win, doesn’t it?” This isn’t smart. He should be trying to make this easier for Kevin, trying to smooth things over. Maybe he should even have let Kevin out of it. Kevin will never forgive him for this.

Deep down, Sami knows Kevin will never forgive him for anything. He hopes with a flame and a fury that will never be extinguished because that’s what Sami Zayn does, but he _knows._ “Tell them you’re a champion,” he taunts. 

Kevin grabs Sami by the hair. “Let me shut your mouth for you.” 

Sami does let him. He lets Kevin shove his cock in so far he gags. He doubles over, one hand on Kevin’s hip for balance, and lets Kevin fuck his mouth, struggling to get enough air between thrusts. An olé chant starts, faintly. For once Sami ignores it. He doesn’t try to get free, or turn the tables. This is what he wanted. He just wishes it were easier to see Kevin’s face. 

“Not bad,” Kevin says hoarsely. “I’m just gonna close my eyes and imagine the Rock and we might actually get out of here in a reasonable amount of time.”

Close his _eyes?_ Sami’s hand curls into a fist against Kevin’s hip. With a convulsive effort, he shoves Kevin away. His throat hurts and his mouth feels empty. He staggers to his feet anyway, swaying. “Fuck you, Kev!” he shouts. Hey, this left PG territory a long time ago. “You really think you’re fooling anyone?” He comes at him with a clothesline, slamming Kevin on his ass on the mat. Straddling his thighs, he gets his hand on Kevin’s erection again. “This is for _me_ and I’m pretty sure all these people know that.”

A high-pitched roar from the crowd, screams and catcalls. Kevin spits at him. It doesn’t land. Sami twists his wrist and Kevin bangs his head against the mat, his teeth turning his lower lip white. His eyes are shut.

“Just say it,” Sami urges, suddenly meaning it, suddenly sure that this can still be fixed. “Just say my name. Just admit the truth. It’s okay.”

Kevin opens his eyes. They’re...they’re dead. Gone forever. Sami’s blood turns to ice. “I’ve told you the truth. It’s not my fault you don’t like it. What I did to you was business.”

He leans down and sucks just the tip of Kevin’s cock in, gently. “What about this?” he asks, close enough that his lips brush Kevin. “Is this business?”

“Mr. Regal set the match,” Kevin says obstinately despite the hitch in his breath. Despite his shivers. “I’m just doing my job.”

Sami takes Kevin’s balls in his other hand. They feel so fragile in their little bag of skin. Sami rolls them carefully in his fingers. “Good work if you can get it, I guess.” He feels tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of trying to get some kind of validation for what he knows already: Kevin loves him. Why does Sami need everyone else to know it too? Why does he let Kevin make him doubt himself? 

If this is the last time, then fuck fighting. Fuck everything. He’s going to make it beautiful. “I love you,” he says. “I want you to know that. I want—I want all these people to know it.” A great rush of feeling. Oh wow. He does want that. It’s been killing him all this time at NXT, talking about his life, his career, and not mentioning Kevin. There’s been a gaping, aching, Kevin-shaped hole in his story. He wants everyone to finally know. He wants them to love Kevin too.

Kevin tries to roll to the side. Sami bounces, trapping his legs with his weight. Kevin doesn’t try that hard to get away. His eyes are too bright. His mouth is trembling.

Sami doesn’t try to kiss him. He kisses his cock, though, before he finally takes it all the way in. Kevin makes a miserable whining sound, his fists thumping against the mat.

Sami presses his tongue up against the underside of Kevin’s cock, holds Kevin tight and safe, and gives him this one last thing. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until afterwards.

*

Usually Kevin waits for Rami’s cue to break character. He doesn’t this time. He pulls Rami up to spoon, sniffling against Rami’s neck. “You’re amazing,” he says with a damp kiss to Rami’s shoulder. “That was amazing. I love you too.”

Sorrow blossoms into a bright yellow rose in Rami’s chest. He shuts his eyes and smiles, curling into Kevin’s embrace. “I know,” he says smugly.


End file.
